Shelter
by Chilly Academic IV
Summary: Long drabble-type story. Saix adressing the weight he had held on his shoulders for twelve years, with the help of his daughter. Mpreg, slash


_Shelter_

A/N: Long drabble based on an RP I'm in, in which I am Saix.

Warnings: References to mpreg and slash. Also, unbetad. Possible errors.

She was having a nightmare again.

Sure, she would think she was too grown up to have her father sit at her bedside as she slept, but he would occasionally walk into her room on his silent night walks to find he curled up and whimpering in the bed she once shared with a twin sibling. Fraternal twins at least—they looked as different as their parents did. It was her room, now, as the other parents of the children and the brother had been gone for going on twelve years now, leaving him alone to raise the daughter.

Silently he would find a chair and place it by the bed, gloved hands combing gently through those locks of blue with hints of shimmering silver. She was such a beautiful young lady, and part of him pined for her to have been raised by both parents. Knowing she deserved it, and it was what he would want for his child.

There was only so long he could protect her from the truth, after all. She was a sharp girl, noting that her father would be there, whereas the brother and other one who had begun to raise her were long gone. She'd ask so often that he came up with a story until she was old enough to know the truth. And that was when the nightmares had begun.

Poor thing.

He knew well that she would likely have difficulty forming relationships with others, and likely develop some sort of fear of being abandoned. He did his best to be there for her. To teach her, to raise her, to be the best father he could, and yet there was only so much one man could do. Especially a man who still had fighting to do, missions to go on. The others helped, of course, but she was always so happy to see him return home, so glad that he, too, had not disappeared suddenly out of her life.

Leaning down, his lips lightly brushed the forehead of the slumbering girl, resisting the urge to cry himself. No one could have foreseen this, after all. No one thought that this girl would be abandoned with her father, that she would have to be raised with the aid of the others due to an absentee parental figure.

There were nights he, too, had the nightmares.

Wondering what had become of her brother, the child that had been gone for so long. Wondering if he was okay, if he was alive. Wanting to see the young man he would become. Part of him would always ache for that, would always want to know. And of course, that part would likely never be quiet, as was it not a parent's job to worry for the fate of their children? Their future? Their destiny? Their happiness?

In fact, there were nights that he would jolt awake with tears running down his face, as he had before the children had been born.

And he'd been promised that he would never be abandoned.

Bitter now, looking down at this beautiful slumbering girl. Bitter now that he'd been deceived and lied to, treated wrong by all thoughts of the concept. Let down, broken and betrayed, left to raise this girl on his own. And she was better for it… If someone would so readily abandon another, what right did they have to be in their life in the first place?

Let it go. That is all he had wanted to do for all these years. Let it go, release this ache that he carried with him, that stung him at every breath… Even after all these years, he still hated that this was how it was.

"Daddy?"

Usually this was the stage that children would begin to rebel, to form their own person. But she had merely grown closer to her father, especially since she learned the cold truth of what had happened those twelve years ago. Truly her father loved her, enough to give up many things in his life to raise her, to be with her, to be a father to her. Though he made no immediately verbal response, she could tell he'd been thinking, that he was upset.

Her arms were around his neck, her face buried against his neck as his own blue hair brushed against her face. Comfort. If it existed, it was in this embrace.

For both of them. While she had been partially raised by others, she knew it was this man who was the most important, the key role in her life. That he was the one she would return to, that he was what a parent should be. No, he was not someone that would merely disappear one night without even saying goodbye to his lover or his daughter, disappearing and taking her brother along, too young and too unknowing to have made the decision for himself. She would never forgive that. Never forgive the abandonment she had to deal with, and never forgive the load that had been shoved off onto her dear father.

She could never condemn her father for how he lived, how he existed. She loved him unconditionally and always had, and she always would. She loved her dad.

And he knew it.

No, she didn't have to say it. She didn't have to be around him. She merely had to exist for him to know how she loved him. How afraid she was of loosing him every time he departed on a mission, knowing that the only thing that would separate them would be death. His arms were her sanctuary, where for a moment she could forget, she could forget the pain she felt every day she woke up and realized that she still had but one parent. But he was a devoted and loyal father, and let nothing come between them. And for that, she loved him. Respected him. Admired him.

He was her hero. He was the one person she adored more than anyone in this world. And while she was perhaps getting a little old to be daddy's little girl, she liked to think that she always would be.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you, Xarsha?"

"No, Daddy. You didn't wake me up. Why do you look so sad…?"

"… I was remembering that day."

"Daddy… Don't worry. You have me. And we'll be happy as long as he have each other, won't we? It's almost always been that way, anyway… So we'll be okay."

"Xarsha… you've grown so much. You're such a gorgeous young girl, and… I'm sorry you never had both parents…"

"Are you kidding? I didn't have two parents. I had _twelve_ of you. Well… Ten, and two brothers. That's what it felt like…"

"… You did, didn't you? I'm glad you look at it that way, and aren't angry at me."

"At you? Why would I be mad at you? It's not your fault that they left. I mean…"

"But… We argued and…"

"Daddy. I'm just seventeen and I know that if you're with anyone for a long time, you're going to argue with them. And if that was enough to drive you apart then… maybe it's best it happened. I mean… I grew up fine. I'm strong and smart and I'm happy. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like, but…"

"Sometimes you need a child to open your eyes to the world…"

"Ugggh. I'm not a little kid anymore… I'm almost an adult."

"But you'll always be my little girl."

"And you'll always be my daddy. Even when you're old and grey. I never could ask for anything better. I don't think I'd change a thing, even if I could. I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Xarsha."

Soon the teen was asleep once more in her bed, the father standing slowly from the chair he'd sat in. She was happy. She felt happiness. That was a good thing… Even though he was uncertain and unsure, nervous, worried, and upset. But he left that room, closing the door before him, with a strange feeling of calm. Hearing his daughter say that was… relieving. And it meant more than anything in this world.

He'd never thought he'd be a parent.

Soon enough his feet led him to his own room, the light flicked on as he crossed to a dresser with photographs of himself and his child as they grew. When she was six, ten, twelve, fifteen. Birthday parties with his fellow 'parents', and holiday celebrations, as well as other miscellaneous photos—when she got her first bow, and learned to shoot. A moment when she'd told one of her 'teachers' that he was, in fact, wrong… and been correct about it.

But at the far left of the counter was a picture that lay face down on the dresser and had lain so for two years.

A hand slowly traced the silver frame before setting it upright. There, in that photo, was himself and his two year old daughter in his lap. And next to him was a tanned, silver-haired man holding a sleeping silver-haired child.

"I'll never forget you leaving us, Xemnas. And taking Nexiam with you. I'll never forget how you didn't say goodbye. I'll never forget anything.

"But I can no longer live in the past. I will accept it. I will move on. I will be strong for _my_ daughter. I will shed no more tears for you, Xemnas.

"I… I don't need you anymore."


End file.
